Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Nepal and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing L. Decosne to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All Darondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swell Maps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Erasure,
Scratch Acid,
LL Cool J,
The Monks,
Michelle Simonal,
Bobby Womack,
The Martian,
Jacques Brel,
Grey Daturas,
Ohio Players,
The Neon Judgement,
Lalo Schifrin,
David Axelrod,
Flipper,
Heaven 17,
The Barracudas,
MDC,
New Age Steppers,
Isaac Hayes,
the Slits,
Moby Grape,
Stiv Bators,
Jeff Mills,
Rakim,
Curtis Mayfield,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Gang Starr,
Panda Bear,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Crime,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Human League,
Dead Boys,
Babytalk,
Albert Ayler,
Pole,
Boredoms,
Altered Images,
Yazoo,
The Mummies,
The Smiths,
The Happenings,
June Days,
Mark Hollis,
Fad Gadget,
Fugazi,
Bobby Byrd,
The Smoke,
Girls At Our Best!,
Mandrill,
Rosa Yemen,
Gil Scott Heron,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Kinks,
The Beau Brummels,
The Skatalites,
John Coltrane,
Guru Guru,
Steve Hackett,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.